LINK
by daughterofmars
Summary: Maggie used to be alone... Read or Dream manga.


**Notes: **_Read or Dream manga canon used here._ Maggie's thoughts on her family, on Anita and especially on herself after their little chat in the kitchen in the flashback chapters. My explanation as to how Maggie grew from thinking she was alone (as she told Anita when she fell ill) to the Maggie who believes in her sisters as we experience her in the manga.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters, I'm just playing around.

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**LINK**

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Maggie used to be alone.

It hadn't been a conscious choice as such, but simply the natural result of how things were. Everything had set her apart from the others around her; her voice that was too dark, her tallness that made her hover somewhere far above everyone else (even the boys), her physical strength and not least her interests. And since it was just the way it was – and since Maggie didn't mind the silence – she kept to herself and took her books with her.

Sometimes the girls in her class would try to get her involved in their dramatic one-, two- and three- (at times more) way crushes, but Maggie soon discovered that squeezing herself further into her narrow, dark corners kept them at bay. Even the most persistent ones of them got tired of having the front cover of yet another novel shoved in their smiling faces.

The best and truest love stories always took place in books anyway. At least if you asked Maggie. No one did, but she didn't mind. "Gone With the Wind" was all the confirmation she needed.

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Thus, Maggie stayed alone. Soon it became more of a habit than anything else and she started questioning if it could be different at all. Her books never seemed to come up with an answer, and seeing that they were the only ones she consulted, the question remained unanswered for a long, long time.

When her powers manifested themselves, driving another and maybe deeper wedge (superpowers never helped anyone fit in, she knew – just ask Clark Kent or Peter Parker) in between Maggie and other people, she thought she'd found the final response to her unvoiced inquiry. She was no more than 12 years old – bordering on 13 – and it looked like she was deemed to a life with only pigeons and cats for friends.

Wasn't it Hemingway who'd said that cats were more honest creatures than most human beings? Maybe it wasn't so bad…

Little Maggie Mui never got to finish that thought. The next morning Dokusensha had knocked on the door to her parents' house, offering their daughter a home at their specially designed "facility", containing everything necessary to deal successfully with Maggie's "special needs". Originally Maggie hadn't wanted to go – she might not have any friends, but she still had her family, no matter how much they always commented on her being a weird, ungrateful child – but after one look on the contract promising her free access to their library (which was bigger than anything Maggie had ever laid eyes on before) and money to buy the titles she couldn't find there, she gave in. Willingly.

Maggie's greatest love affair had always been with books. They were the only friends she needed. They were the only objects of her exclusive devotion.

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Dokusensha understood that Maggie was a bibliophile extraordinaire. A bookworm of the highest degree, and they accommodated to her needs. So she served them without thinking too long or hard about why all her questions concerning her more and more frequent missions were always answered in the same way: "You do not need to know in order to complete your work." As long as they provided her with reading material, she continued to develop her Paper Mastery, quickly learning how to form and manipulate paper as she wished. As long as they kept the pay checks coming, Maggie did their dirty work – and she did it well.

Alone.

No one lived with her in the small Hong Kong apartment she'd been given. Maggie filled the place with books, manga and magazines and told herself it wasn't lonely. For five years, she convinced herself that with books for company, the concept of being alone was deprived of meaning. Yes, when she had her books, the term "loneliness" ceased to exist altogether.

This brilliant conclusion didn't manage to explain, however, why sometimes Maggie would set the table for two persons and form a familiar of a book she hadn't even finished yet, remaining seated long after she'd eaten the last spoonful of her own only half-professional cooking – simply to stay in the sweet illusion of not being just by herself. The paper puppet never spoke, though. Characteristics like that were far above any of Maggie's, admittedly, well-developed skills.

Luckily Maggie didn't mind the quietness (but she didn't like it either)...

* * *

Leaving the 12-year-old Anita King – and with her, Michelle Cheung as well – in Maggie's care, led Maggie to the explanation neither her books nor her puppets had been able to give her. All it took was the emotionless voice of the sullen, pink-haired girl exclaiming: "Me too, I'm alone as well" and Maggie realised – at that very moment – exactly what she'd been missing all along.

Family. Sisters. Not by blood, but by paper. By books. By spirit.

Maggie used to be alone. She used to read about true love in a lot of her books, understanding the words, but not what lay behind (some things cannot be captured on paper, Maggie knows – of all people, she knows). Now that she has experienced the real thing, she has discovered a devotion that goes beyond books. Yes, for this – to be able to keep her Paper Sisters safe and not let anyone take them away from her again – she would sacrifice every book in the entire world. It would hurt (and Michelle probably wouldn't allow her to), but to save Anita – who reminds her of someone Maggie knows too well – from ever being alone again, Maggie could and would do it.

Because, despite being loud and hating books, Anita has shown Maggie that even though she used to be alone and might still feel alone from time to time, she isn't.

Not anymore.


End file.
